


Making forts under covers

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Condomless in the Creek [13]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: But honestly it's mostly a conversation, Condom Use Discussion, M/M, POV David Rose, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “I know.” Patrick’s eyes are wide and not looking away from him. “I just… I’m worried that this is going to sound like maybe my reasons aren’t what I say they are, and I don’t want— I know your history, David, and I don’t want to worry you.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Condomless in the Creek [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983950
Comments: 38
Kudos: 280





	Making forts under covers

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Condomless in the Creek collaborative series. Each work is an alternate take on David and Patrick discussing their condom usage, or lack thereof. The fics in the series do not exist in the same timeline and are not necessarily consistent with each other, but the series is in canon chronological order and I absolutely recommend reading them all!
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

They’ve been married three years when one night, seemingly out of nowhere, David realises he can’t remember the last time Patrick bottomed. He’s not sure why he notices it this time and not any of the others, but it suddenly occurs to him that the flicker of hesitation on Patrick’s face when David murmurs _can I fuck you_ isn’t new; in the moment, he accepts Patrick’s _I really want to blow you, though_ with an easy smile — and a spectacular orgasm — but later, after Patrick is asleep on his shoulder with his nose thing whistling just the tiniest bit, he casts his mind back.

They have too much sex for David to be able to remember everything they do — which isn’t a _problem_ in any sense of the word — but he _thinks_ the last time he topped might have been two, three months ago? For the life of him, he can’t think of anything that might have triggered the change, but given how often they usually switch things up in bed it’s astounding he didn’t notice before now.

Over the next few days, David pays careful attention. At first, he wonders if maybe Patrick’s just not into being penetrated anymore (or right now, at least) but two days later he fucks David with a plug in his ass, and a couple of nights after that he’s pleading for David’s fingers inside him while David blows him, and then on Saturday night when they’re both a little tipsy Patrick pulls out the suction-cup dildo and spears himself onto it as he takes David down his throat, so… that’s probably not it.

It’s not a big _deal,_ if Patrick doesn’t want David to fuck him anymore. It’s one of the few areas in which David is surprisingly versatile, and if he has a sudden overwhelming urge to sink his cock into something other than Patrick’s extremely willing mouth or gorgeous thighs… well, he has toys. If Patrick wants to exclusively top for the rest of their lives, David will be fine with that. After all, getting fucked by Patrick is hardly a compromise.

But they probably need to have a conversation about it. And historically, that hasn’t been something they’ve been _great_ at.

Once, he would have put off the conversation and let the anxiety eat away at him until it was all blurted out in an embarrassing mess. But he’s grown as a human being or whatever, so instead he waits until his day off, cooks them both a nice meal for when Patrick gets home, accepts the gratitude-filled kiss with an easy smile, and pours them each a glass of wine to go with dinner. It’s only once the sound of cutlery scraping across empty plates has been replaced by a deep sigh of satisfaction that David summons up his willpower. “Can we talk about the fact that you haven’t wanted to bottom lately?”

Patrick chokes on his wine. When he’s finished spluttering he looks over at David, eyes wide. “Um—” 

“Like, it’s fine.” David twists one of his engagement rings around on his finger, not wanting to give Patrick the wrong impression. “I’m not, like, upset? Enthusiastic consent and all that. I just wanted to know if I’d done something wrong, or if there was—”

“David, no, god.” Stricken, Patrick gets up from the table and walks around to sink down in the chair next to David, taking one of David’s hands in both of his. “You haven’t done anything—” He breaks off, pressing a kiss to David’s knuckles, and David feels the deep knot of anxiety in his stomach loosen just a fraction. “This is just— there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, and I’ve been trying to figure out how.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“I know.” Patrick’s eyes are wide and not looking away from him. “I just… I’m worried that this is going to sound like maybe my reasons aren’t what I say they are, and I don’t want— I know your history, David, and I don’t want to worry you.”

David presses his lips together, unsure. “Okay, well, now I’m a little worried, so maybe you should just, um, tell me?”

“Okay.” Patrick nods quickly, decisively. “I just— I love you, David. And you have _nothing_ to worry about, okay?”

“Patrick—”

“I want to go back to using condoms.”

David blinks. Blinks again. Tries to choke down the panic clawing its way up his throat. “Um…”

“And it’s not because— it’s not a monogamy issue.” Patrick’s fingers, still clasping his hand, squeeze tight; David can feel where Patrick’s nails are leaving marks in his skin. “David, I swear to you. It’s just, um.” He wrinkles his nose slightly and, David suspects, involuntarily. “It’s the mess?”

“The mess?”

A flush creeps across Patrick’s cheekbones, light and adorable. “I love it when you fuck me, David. _Really_ love it. I just… unless I get in the shower after, it’s, um… not always easy to… clean up?”

They’ve been married three years, together five. Patrick has seen David piss the bed, and David bore shockingly close witness to the food poisoning incident Patrick begged him to never reference again. And yet somehow, Patrick is getting flustered talking about David’s come in his ass. It’s actually quite sweet, in a very, very awkward sort of way. And honestly, he kind of gets it; the difference is David _likes_ it, likes the hours-later reminder of getting pounded into the mattress (or the table, or the wall, or… anyway.)

“You've been avoiding getting fucked because you didn’t want to deal with the mess?”

Patrick winces. “Honestly, David, I didn't consciously realise I was doing it until a couple of weeks ago? And then I just couldn't figure out how to bring it up.”

 _I just couldn't figure out how to bring it up_ could be the tagline to Patrick’s life, though in fairness he’s been a lot better about it since his thirtieth birthday. “So do you want to use them all the time, or just when you’re bottoming?”

Patrick’s gaze sweeps over him, eyes dark, before he looks back up at David’s face with a guilty little grimace. “Am I a hypocrite if I say only when I’m bottoming?”

“There’s no wrong answer here, honey.” It’s been a long time since he’s had to say those words to Patrick and Patrick gives a tiny shake of his head in response, accompanied by a self-deprecating laugh.

“I really should have known you wouldn’t freak out about this. I think I just built it up in my head, what it might look like if I suddenly brought up condoms again after four years without them.” He leans in to capture David’s lips with his own, a relatively chaste kiss full of promise. “I’m sorry, David.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He’s surprised that it really didn’t seriously occur to him, even for a moment, that Patrick might have ulterior motives for the request. A brief second of panic is nothing, compared to what his reaction might have been a couple of years ago. “You want to update the grocery list, or shall I?”

“Would you mind?” Patrick stands up, grabbing David’s plate. “You cooked; I’m on dishes duty.”

* * *

The next day they go to Brebner’s after work for their weekly shop, and Patrick throws two boxes of condoms in the trolley while leering overdramatically at David.

“Um, excuse me? Who do you think I am, the Energiser Bunny? How often do you think you’re going to get fucked this week, exactly?” David tries to keep his voice down, he really does, but there’s a snort from somewhere behind him; when he turns around there’s an older woman studying the vitamins section with a look of intense interest who seems to be determinedly not looking in their direction, though there’s a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“I just figured maybe we could make up for lost time.” Patrick steps into his space, his hands on David’s waist as he presses a kiss to the spot on David’s neck he claimed a long time ago. “I have faith in you. In us.”

“Hmm.” David purses his lips, but his resolve to be aloof and unaffected only lasts until Patrick’s thumb starts tracing small circles into his side, over his sweater, and then he’s smiling despite himself. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re a _very_ generous person.”

* * *

That night David makes Patrick beg for it; fingering him open as slowly as he can bear, fingers dripping, until Patrick is alternating between sobbing his name and choked-off curses. It’s only once he’s as on edge as Patrick sounds that he sits back, wiping his hand off on the towel he grabbed earlier before grabbing the condom and ripping the packet open. He rolls it over his dick slowly, just that light and methodical touch making him twitch, then he runs his hand down the side of Patrick’s thigh before gripping Patrick’s calf and pulling it over his shoulder. At the first press of David’s cock against his hole Patrick’s eyes flutter shut for a moment before he seemingly forces them open, bringing both hands up to David’s face and pulling him in for a messy kiss as David pushes the rest of the way in. Patrick moans against his mouth, teeth sinking into David’s lower lip.

“Fuck me.” Patrick arches his back, gasping. “David, fuck me.”

“I mean, I was planning on it.” Just for the demand, David pulls almost all the way out, until Patrick’s hands slide from his face down to his shoulders and start scrabbling as if to keep him close, before fucking back into him slow and deep just like he knows Patrick likes and eliciting a low groan.

“God, I missed this.” There are fingernails digging into David’s back; Patrick is clenching around him, all tight heat even through the condom; Patrick’s head is thrown back and he’s flushed all the way down his chest. He sucks a hickey into Patrick’s collarbone, runs a thumb over his nipple, presses his shoulder into the mattress with one hand to hold him down while David fucks into him, and fucks into him, and fucks into him. It’s only once Patrick’s chanting of his name becomes erratic, the pleading tone creeping in, that he finally wraps a hand around Patrick’s cock; it only takes a few haphazard strokes before Patrick comes with a loud shout, wetness all over David’s hand, and David finally lets himself tumble over the edge after him.

He stays where he is, slumped over Patrick with his head on Patrick’s shoulder, until the condom starts to get uncomfortable and then he pulls out with a groan. Patrick whimpers, wrapping both legs around David’s waist for a moment before finally letting him go to the bathroom to throw out the condom and return with a wet washcloth which he uses to clean the come off Patrick’s stomach. Once he’s done Patrick takes the cloth from him and cleans the lube off his ass, then he scrunches it into a ball and lobs it at the hamper in the corner.

“Please tell me you got that in.” David’s eyelids are already starting to droop; he has just enough energy to arrange the blankets around them both before settling in, tucked under Patrick’s arm.

“Of course I did.” Patrick always sounds offended by David’s lack of faith in his aiming abilities, but as David has explained to him multiple times, they have hardwood floors, dammit. “David, thank you.”

David knows he’s not just being thanked for the sex, though frankly he wouldn’t be surprised if he was. “Anytime.”

“Excellent. Looking forward to getting fucked again at 7am.”

David isn’t quite close enough to sleep that he can’t scoff. “Absolutely not.”

“Eight?”

There’s something not quite teasing in Patrick’s voice, something that makes David choke back the automatic denial. “8:30. But you’re doing all the work.”

Patrick’s laugh is warm as he presses a kiss to the top of David’s head. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


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